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It's the day after Thanksgiving. Which means two things: turkey
leftovers, which I love; and the start of the Christmas onslaught.
Now I grant that, as a non-Christian, I'm not the target audience for
this stuff. But does it have to be such dreck? Does it have to be so
awfully serious (and seriously awful)? Heck, even Dragnet dropped its
"The stories you are about to hear is true" when Christmas
came around.
Which is why I'm grateful for Christopher Moore. I first discovered
Moore through his book Island of the Sequined Love Nun, just
the sort of thing to gladden my diseased soul. And I discovered his
willingness to use even the most sacred tales when I saw and then
devoured his brilliant Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff,
Christ's Childhood Pal, a far smarter and insightful tale of
the zeroth century Middle East than you're expecting. Moore is like
Carl Hiaasen on drugs. But good drugs.
Which brings me to this latest work, just in time for the holidays.
The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror
is just what we need in these faith-challenged times. Because in a
battle between faith and a sense of the absurd, absurdity will win
every time. Or at least two out of three falls.
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